


None of That Winter Spice Shit

by squash1



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam takes care of him, M/M, Opal is a little cutie, Ronan has the flu, but drives to DC to pick up Adam anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 06:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13265277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squash1/pseuds/squash1
Summary: In the back of his mind, Ronan can hear Adam, ever the voice of reason, explaining that if he overexerts himself whilst sick, the cold will linger and Ronan won’t be able to enjoy their time together.“Fuck that,” Ronan reasons out loud, ever so eloquently.





	None of That Winter Spice Shit

**Author's Note:**

> My first Pynch fic. Yikes. I'm a bit nervous. At least I know that I've done plenty of research. 
> 
> Anyway, have some domestic fluff.

Ronan is pretty sure that he’s dying. He was fine when he left the Barns in the morning, but what was a mere scratch in his throat when he got into his car then has evolved into a horrid burning sensation forcing him to wheeze and cough his lungs out and right into the sleeve of his hoodie. It isn’t going to stop him from driving all the way to DC, though, not with the prospect of bringing Adam, _his_ Adam, back to the barns for two whole weeks. In the back of his mind, Ronan can hear Adam, ever the voice of reason, explaining that if he overexerts himself whilst sick, the cold will linger and Ronan won’t be able to enjoy their time together.

“Fuck that,” Ronan reasons out loud, ever so eloquently.

A glance into the rearview mirror reveals a passed-out Opal, mouth agape and cradling a similarly snoozing Chainsaw in her lap. How they are able to sleep with the deep bass beat rattling the BMW is beyond him, although Opal was so upset when Ronan tried dropping her off at 300 Fox Way that morning that her exhaustion doesn’t surprise him. He turns the volume down a couple of notches. At least she will be well-rested by the time they arrive in DC, and Adam won’t be met with a cranky dream child greeting him by means of tears and hoof-stomping. Ronan sighs, then falls into a coughing fit and groans as his vision blurs. Better safe than sorry, he decides, considering that Opal is in the backseat, and switches lanes only to settle into a comfortable speed behind a box van.

At this speed, it takes them an extra 40 minutes to reach the city, and both Opal and Chainsaw are awake and alert, the girl bombarding Ronan with ‘Are we there yet?’-s and the raven hopping onto his backrest and picking at his earlobe. By now, Ronan’s cough has intensified and he has started to feel fuzzy and tired. At a stoplight, he checks his phone for any messages from Adam and finds two, both of them telling Ronan to call once he arrives. And so he does.

“Hello, Ronan?” Adam asks, voice clearly high-pitched with excitement. Ronan’s chest glows with something other than convulsive coughing.

“Parrish,” Ronan answers, fighting to keep his tone as low-key as possible, “We’re about five minutes from your dorms.”

“We?”

“I brought Opal,” he clarifies, and the girl giggles and yells, “Adam!” with great enthusiasm. Chainsaw croaks, seemingly annoyed.

“Oh, and Chainsaw, too.”

On the other end of the line, Adam laughs.

“Amazing,” he says, his Henrietta accent rolling easily off his tongue, “I can’t wait to see y’all!”

Lo and behold, Ronan manages to get through the rest of the short phone call without as much as clearing his throat, and pulls into the parking lot across the street from Adam’s dorm a few minutes later. Opal is the first to spot Adam standing across the street by the entryway of the dorm building, and manages to wiggle out of her car seat before Ronan can even stop the engine. Adam crosses the street to meet the overexcited girl by the entrance of the car park, picking her up and spinning them both in circles. Chainsaw hops off Ronan’s shoulder the first chance she gets and flaps around the twirling pair, croaking joyfully.

If he wasn’t feeling like death himself, Ronan might have been enticed to join his little family of strange and beautiful creatures. But, alas, his lungs clench and demand relief. He’s coughing violently into the crook of his elbow when Adam reaches him, Opal clinging to his arm and still giggling.

“Are you okay?” he asks, gingerly placing a hand on Ronan’s shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Ronan gasps, tears in his eyes, “I’m just shocked at how you’ve managed to get even fucking hotter these past couple of months.”

Adam snorts at that, and reaches up to feel Ronan’s forehead.

“You’re burning up, Ro,” he says, clearly concerned, but all Ronan can think about is how Adam is worrying bottom lip between his teeth. That, and the pain seemingly splitting his head in half when he coughs again.

“Come on,” Adam says and tugs at Ronan’s sleeve, “Let’s go upstairs.”

As Adam is lugging him up the stairs to the second floor, it strikes Ronan that he hasn’t even greeted him properly yet.

“Adam,” he wheezes, a shudder running through is body.

“Hm?” Adam hums questioningly, gently pushing Ronan up the stairs. Ronan has lost sight of Opal, but he thinks he can hear her boots shuffling on the linoleum steps behind them.

“I haven’t even kissed you yet,” he says, nudging Adam at the shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Adam says and Ronan is overwhelmed by a course of emotions, identifying mostly fondness and exhaustion in his state of being.

They fall silent, then, and when they get to Adam’s dorm, Ronan is relieved to find the other half empty already. He distantly remembers Adam telling him that his roommate has gone home early for the holidays.

“I feel like death warmed up,” Ronan says as he plops down into Adam’s shabby old mattress.

Admitting defeat. That’s a new one.

Adam laughs.

“You look like it, too,” he says, and pushes Ronan to lie flat against the neatly made bed. His head hits the pillow and Ronan groans as his muscles relax into the soft comfort of Adam’s bed.

Adam takes time to unlace his heavy-duty utility boots and Ronan can hear him shuffling over to the door and knows that he has lined them up neatly next to his own sneakers.

“Don’t eat that, Opal, that’s my physics textbook,” Ronan hears him say calmly.

“I let Chainsaw stay outside, I’m sure she wants to stretch her wings after such a long drive.”

“Mhm,” Ronan agrees, and lifts one arm to rest over his forehead.

The mattress dips to his left, and Adam’s nimble fingers find the juncture where his neck meets his jaw.

“Try to get some rest. I’m gonna go and get you some cough syrup.”

Ronan grunts in agreement. Then he feels Adam lean down and place a kiss on his cheek.

“Love you, Ro,” he says and then the dip in the mattress is gone.

“Opal, do you want to come with me?” Ronan hears Adam ask as he slips into his shoes by the door.

“Can I get a soda?”

“Of course, you can.”

“Okay! Can I get a coke?”

A slightly panicked “ _No!_ ” is the last thing Ronan hears before door falls shut and he lets exhaustion overcome him.

 

-

 

The turn of the lock pulls Ronan out of a fever-induced dream. Heart thumping wildly, he lies very still trying to piece together his surroundings.

Then, he hears Opal shout “Kerah!” enthusiastically, and Adam hiss “Shh!” quietly, and remembers that he is lying in Adam’s dingy dorm room bed. When he finally manages to pry his eyes open, Adam is sitting at his desk watching him with a worried look in his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as soon as he notices Ronan opening his eyes.

Ronan yawns, but is interrupted by a fit of coughs.

“Been better,” he confesses.

Adam smiles sadly and moves to sit on the bed next to Ronan. His hand finds Ronan’s forehead again, checking for heightened temperature.

“I think your temperature is down for now. I got you some over-the-counter cough medicine and some paracetamol for the fever.”

“Thanks,” Ronan croaks.

Adam hands him a cap full of cough syrup and Ronan accepts it, pulling a face at the bitter taste. As soon as he’s swallowed, Adam thrusts one of the pain killers into his one hand, and a bottle of water in the other. “There you go,” he assures Ronan, taking back the bottle and setting it aside on the desk.

“I’m thinking we should wait until the paracetamol kicks in, and then we can pack up the car and head back to Henrietta,” Adam suggests after a minute or two.

“What the fuck, Parrish?” Ronan asks, appalled by the idea of not following through with the plans they’ve made for the weekend, “What about going to that exhibition you’ve been gnawing my ear off about? That fucking hipster ass coffee shop you’ve been talking about nonstop?”

“You’re clearly in no shape to go looking at abstract expressionist paintings.”

Ronan can think of a bunch of gloriously rude comebacks but decides to preserve his energy.

“I’ll pick up a hot chocolate for you before we go home, okay?” Adam says, not seeming upset that Ronan has ruined his plans of showing him around his favourite spots in the city. Ronan knew he wouldn’t be, but he really didn’t expect for a cold to hit him with such an impressive impact.

“Okay. But none of that fancy winter spice shit,” Ronan spits, although with less ferociousness than he would usually. He props himself up on his elbow and tugs at the hem of Adam’s sweatshirt until he gives in and moves to sit on the bed next to Ronan.

“Yes, Ronan, I know. No holiday cheer for you,” he sighs, taking Ronan’s hand and interlacing their fingers.

“I’m not the fucking Grinch, Parrish, I just don’t like pumpkin in my cocoa.”

The look Adam throws him is full of amusement. Ronan is glad his cold hasn’t taken a toll on his willingness to goof around.

“I want pumpkin in my cocoa!” Opal announces, and hops onto the foot of the bed.

“Okay, we’ll get you some then,” Adam answers without hesitation, smiling at her over his shoulder and reaching out a hand towards her.

“Yay!” she exclaims gleefully, and kicks off her boots before crawling over to sit with them. Ronan feels a swelling of pride in his chest at her consideration. They’ve raised her well.

The three of them spend the rest of the afternoon on Adam’s bed. Ronan and Opal tell stories from the Barns, and Adam recounts his most memorable anecdotes from the past semester. They are a giggling mess by the time five o’clock rolls around.

“Are you feeling any better?” Adam asks him in a quiet moment.

Ronan nods, “Yeah, thanks. I think the paracetamol is working. I feel great, actually.”

“Don’t overexert yourself,” Adam warns, and with a glance at his watch adds, “Do you think you’re fit to travel back to Henrietta? I’ll drive and you can get some more rest.”

Ronan agrees that this is a good idea. Before he can protest, Adam is heaving his duffle bag and back pack out of the door, leaving Ronan and Opal in his dorm room to pack up the car. He returns a couple of minutes later to pull Ronan off his bed, lace up his boots for him, and snake an arm around his waist.

“Let’s go,” he says, and Ronan complies, Opal trailing behind them.

When they reach the BMW, Chainsaw is perched on the roof and flapping her wings excitedly. Adam opens the door to the passenger seat, and she is the first to hop in, nesting herself in the back next to the booster seat. Once Adam has made sure that both Ronan and Opal are strapped in safely, he gets into the driver seat and manoeuvers the car out of the parking lot. A couple of blocks down the road, he pulls over and parallel-parks in front of a coffee shop. In the backseat, Opal is scrambling to get out of her seat and Adam sighs, glancing at her through the mirror. After a beat, he accepts his fate and agrees to take her in with him. Opal stumbles out of the car onto the sidewalk. When Adam approaches her, she reaches for his hand and tugs him through the entrance. Ronan can hear a bell jingling as she pushes the door open but closes his eyes, deciding to seize the opportunity to rest without Opal’s hooves slamming into his backrest for once in a while.

Ronan must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing he knows is the roaring engine of his BMW waking him. His eyes remain shut as Adam shifts into reverse year, backs the car up a little, and then shifts back into first gear to pull them out onto the street. From the backseat sounds a horrible crunching noise that moves Ronan to open his eyes and look over his shoulder. Opal is happily munching on what looks to be a toasted panini. In her lap, Chainsaw is picking at the crumbs that have fallen onto her clothes.

“You got food?” he asks, question directed at Adam, who keeps his eyes fixed on the road but laughs softly.

“I figured you might be hungry. I got you a tuna melt and a bagel,” Adam says, and points to a paper bag sitting by Ronan’s feet, “And your cocoa, as requested without any _winter spice shit_.”

“Damn, Parrish,” Ronan swears and reaches for the neatly wrapped sandwiches by his feet, “What have I ever done to deserve someone as awesome as you.”

Before Adam can answer, he falls into a coughing fit. When he stops, he wipes his damp eyes on his sleeve.

“I know I’m an amazing boyfriend, but you don’t have to cry,” Adam grins and leans over to open the glove box. He retrieves the bottle of cough syrup he must have stored there when he was packing up the car earlier, and tosses it into Ronan’s lap.

“Take another capful when you’re done with your food,” he says, “You’re supposed to take it three times a day, so this will be your evening dose. If you start feeling feverish again, you should some more paracetamol, too.”

“Yes, doctor,” Ronan replies, “Thank you, doctor.”

“Shut up and eat your food, Lynch,” Adam says.

“Seriously. Thanks.”

Ronan lays his palm over Adam’s hand on the stick shift.

“Yeah,” Adam says, and the car goes quiet par from the sounds of Opal and Ronan eating their sandwiches and the occasional croak from Chainsaw.

They drive home in silence since Adam refuses to let Ronan play his music in the car, and orders him to sleep instead. And Ronan does. The next time he wakes, the clock on the dashboard indicates that it’s nearly eleven pm, and Opal is asleep in the backseat with Chainsaw snoozing in her lap. They are pulling into the driveway of the Barns, and Ronan feels content spreading through him. _Home_.

Inside, Adam tells Opal to brush her teeth and get ready for bed before he helps Ronan up the stairs and into his own bed. _Their_ bed. Once under the covers, Ronan sighs deeply as he realizes how fatigued he still is.

“I’m so fucking tired.”

Adam chuckles, and Ronan can see him stepping out of his jeans from the corner of his eye. He’s missed this. Not just Adam undressing in front of him, but the domesticity of getting ready for bed together.

“Of course you’re tired, you’re sick,” Adam replies, and disappears into the en suite to retrieve a cup of water for Ronan.

“It’s important that you stay hydrated,” he adds and holds the cup out for him.

Ronan thanks him, takes a couple of sips, and sets the half full cup on his nightstand. He notices the bottle of cough medicine and the pain killers Adam must’ve brought up from the car. _Home. Family. Adam._

Adam disappears down the hall to check on Opal, and when he returns Ronan is half asleep already. He crawls under the comforter and inches closer until his chest is pressed up against Ronan’s back. Then, Adam throws his arm over his waist and lays his palm flat against Ronan’s chest.

“Sleep tight, Ro,” he murmurs, placing a kiss onto the delicate skin behind Ronan’s ear, “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Ronan hums and wriggles just a bit closer to Adam.

“Night,” he yawns, then coughs softly, “Love you.”

“I love you too, Ronan,” Adam answers, “Good night.”

  

**Author's Note:**

> Adam calling Ronan "Ro" is my favourite thing, in case you haven't noticed.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! It's not really got much depth of plot to it but fluff is fluff, eh?
> 
> Find me on tumblr! I'm s-argent :)


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